


The Grand Gacha of Talent

by BaristaKitty



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Gen, Hinata is really down on himself, Light Angst, Other, Sad, komahina in later chapters, pre-DR2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2018-11-14 16:43:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11212080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaristaKitty/pseuds/BaristaKitty
Summary: This contest would no doubt be a setup for further disappointment, and with exit exams coming up, Hinata didn’t need the extra heartache.He hadn’t even started looking at high schools he might want to enter into, and he didn’t want to think about it, because it wouldn’t matter.Wherever he went, it wouldn’t be Hope’s Peak. Wherever he went, he wouldn't have a talent.He laid his head on his desk and idly stared out of his window, which provided a generous view of the brick wall of the apartment building next door.(Hinata's journey to being selected for the Kamukura Project)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hinata doesn't get enough love and appreciation imo  
> This will be about 3 or 4 chapters total  
> I've always wanted to write this headcanon out and now I am ~ 
> 
> Special thanks to ensembleklavier as always for editing this for me! She writes some great DR fics, too, check them out!

It was that time of year again, and the message boards were blowing up in the dead of winter.

Hope’s Peak had announced that they were scouting for the newest class, Class 77, and by early March there’d be an official roster posted to boast what great talent they’d found in not only Japan, but sometimes the rest of the world, too. 

Hinata, in his third and final year of middle school, liked this time of year the best because there was a lot more activity online.

People were speculating, theorizing, spreading rumors…

Even though none of it was related to Hinata, and he was only spectating as someone with no chance of ever getting into HPA, it was...therapeutic.

Somewhat. 

There was a sense of unity with the other posters, who no doubt were ordinary people like himself, that provided a small comfort to him.

It wasn’t like he had friends at school, and he was a member of the go home club for most of his academic career. 

Hinata never spoke much on the forums, anyway, and considering that they were all anonymous, few posters ever entered anything in the name fields. It was a distant camaraderie that Hinata was allowed, and he had no doubt that most of these people wouldn’t find him interesting or want to talk to him outside of the virtual realm.

As Hinata currently clicked away at his keyboard, bag slung over the back of his chair, the door to his room shut, he browsed through the newest thread posts with a frown.

_ I wonder if the rumors about allowing an ordinary person to attend is true...the luck lottery, they’re calling it...it would be nice to win something like that but I’ve got no luck at all… _

He sighed, already envious of whoever would win a place in the most prestigious school of all time. 

_ That’s like a one in a billion chance, so whoever wins would have to be lucky enough that it’s considered a talent. _

Of course, there was a chance it wasn’t true at all.

One poster implied that whoever won wouldn’t really win fairly, but instead it was a cover up for someone wealthy to pay to have their child enrolled.

Hinata scoffed at the idea.

Even if someone with all the money in the world paid for their kid to practice something from the time they were small be it sports, arts, music...it wouldn’t equal talent.

Not to mention, HPA got subsidies from the government.

They didn’t need money.

Everyone knew that.

There wasn’t any announcement about it on the official HPA website, but there was something else--a hand written letter that had been scanned and splashed across the front page.

 

 

_ Attention to all who have admired our honorable establishment thus far, _

 

_ We appreciate your realizing how important it is to nourish the best talent in the world! And so, we would like to ask all fans who are entering their first year of high school in the upcoming semester to submit an essay on the subject: what does “talent” mean to you? _

_ One winner will be chosen to enroll in Hope’s Peak, and we guarantee that the talent of their choosing will bestowed upon them! _

 

_ There is a submission free of 3,000 yen that will go towards school funds. _

 

_ The deadline is February 28th. _

 

_ Good luck and thank you for your participation. _

 

_ Kirigiri Jin _

_ Headmaster of Hope’s Peak Academy _

 

 

Hinata read it over again to make sure he was understanding.

Maybe this was what the other posters had been talking about? To enter into the raffle candidates apparently had to write in.

The submission fee would explain why some posters thought it was a cash grab.

He lightly tapped his index finger on the mouse.

_ I was going to go the bookstore tomorrow, but… _

Hinata was working with limited funds.

He wasn’t often hired for any part time work, because other candidates always seemed much better suited, and his parents didn’t have much allowance to give him.

But still, he had enough saved up to enter the contest.

_ There’s no way I’ll win, though… _

Besides, how was he supposed to write an essay about something he didn’t have?

That was like asking a dog to write about climbing trees, and dogs don’t even have opposable thumbs. 

This contest would no doubt be a setup for further disappointment, and with exit exams coming up, Hinata didn’t need the extra heartache.

He hadn’t even started looking at high schools he might want to enter into, and he didn’t want to think about it, because it wouldn’t matter. 

Wherever he went, it wouldn’t be Hope’s Peak. Wherever he went, he wouldn't have a talent. 

He laid his head on his desk and idly stared out of his window, which provided a generous view of the brick wall of the apartment building next door. 

Hinata shook his head and clicked back to the message boards tab. 

Once he’d hopped on the train of thought that sent him on a tour of every possibility of a bleak, mundane future being forced into the working world with no remarkable talent to set him apart...Hinata wanted to just get it out.

He knew it wouldn’t amount to anything, maybe other anons telling him to quit being a crybaby since they’re all in the same boat. 

But still, Hinata entered a post in the stickied thread.

 

_ Anonymous  _

_ post 85641287 _

_ Just looked at the site and saw the essay contest _

_ >3,000 yen submission fee for something I won’t win, anyway _

_ >don’t have talent, how am I supposed to write about it _

_ >not even good at writing _

 

He’d told himself that he would close out of the tab after saying his piece, but some part of him had to know that was a lie, because if someone responded to him, he wanted to see it.   
Even if it was just that one person who went around replying “kill yourself peasant”. 

This was the most honest social interaction he got, anyway, considering anonymity gave way to sincerity. 

Within a few minutes, he’d gotten the expected responses.

“Kill yourself peasant”

“Whaaa? That’s not the raffle anon that must be something else there's no way to enter the raffle gg tho”

“Submission fee is bc they love money duh???? Why are you surprised by this??”

But he did receive a lengthy response from a particular poster whose style seemed familiar.

He was sure he’d seen them posting before.

 

_ Anonymous _

_ Post 85641344 _

_ >85641287 _

_ Anon, the entire point of the essay contest is to pick someone that doesn’t have talent. _

_ Someone as average and mediocre and unexceptional as your common mouse, no doubt straddling the line of hope at seeing others’ achievements shine and despair because they’re smart enough to realize their own lack of worth. _

_ You sound depressed, because you realize that talent means everything and your lack of it makes you nothing. _

_ So I say you should enter the contest. You sound perfect to enter it with how deep into despair you are. Hope’s Peak is an amazing establishment they could turn you around if you won. _

_ Besides, you want to enter, we all want to go to Hope’s Peak. _

_ If you don’t, you’ll regret it the rest of your life. But hey, I’m just a faceless person with no talent myself, don’t listen to me!  _

 

Hinata rolled his eyes and slouched back, opting to look at his dull white ceiling instead of the colorful assortment of red and mortar outside this time. His back hurt.

_ But still, for all of his self loathing, being called “perfect” to enter a contest… _

_ It’s just a stranger on the internet, but he has a point...if I don’t try, I’ll regret it, even if it turns out to be a huge waste of money...which it likely will. _

Hinata didn’t want to get into too deep a conversation with this anon, and so he simply replied, “I think I will try it. Thanks.” 

_ Should I really, though…? Won’t I just be more disappointed…? _

But he could imagine it: having something that he was exceptionally good at, that sense of pride swelling in his chest when adults and peers like would look surprised and say something like, “what a talented boy! He’s going places!”, and having his life set out for him.

And imagining it for just a second was all it ever took for reality to weigh all the more heavily.

Calling forth every lesson from manga and adventure books about “you never know unless you try” he could remember, and forcibly pushing his disbelief aside so that he could lie to himself, even for just a second that he had a chance; he opened a word processor and started typing. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata struggles with his entry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much thanks as always to ensembleklavier for beta'ing this for me!~

For a solid two weeks, Hinata drafted his essay for the contest.

As soon as he got home from school, and even on Sunday, he planted himself at his desk, staring down at whatever he’d written thus far and deciding that he hated it.

He wasn’t even sure what Hope’s Peak faculty was looking for in these essays, or what the “right” answer was.

_ What is talent? _

Hinata tapped his pencil on his desk absently, holding his head in his other hand.

_ What…is…talent…? _

Hinata half wondered if he should just be honest and open his essay with something like, “talent is everything and the core of what drives mankind forward”, but he didn’t want to turn this into his own personal pity party.

_ It’s obvious I don’t have talent, or I wouldn’t be entering the contest to start with! _

To reaffirm his resolve, Hinata put his pencil down with a frustrated huff and opened up his laptop to revisit the Hope’s Peak homepage, advertising the contest and the mission statement.

How many times had he visited this site?

Too many.

He looked at it at least once a day and more often than not, he glanced at it from his phone on the train ride to school.

Usually he’d zone out staring at it (he didn’t need to read the letters because he’d already memorized them) and he’d daydream about the day he received a certified letter in his mailbox, with no stamp or postage, informing him that he’d been scouted as SHSL ___.

The letter would be embroidered with gold, the written words so precise they looked printed, and when he unfolded it his heart would jump into his throat, threatening to explode.

Sometimes Hinata would fill in that blank with something he’d like to be good at—UFO Catcher games, painting, marksmanship, a sport (any sport).

In this daydream, he was specifically picked to fill a void that the best school in the world so desperately needed him for.

And he was the best in the world at that thing, and that was the important part.

_ He _ was important.

As he idly stared at the screen, eyes unfocused, Hinata let himself simmer in this pleasant fantasy for a few minutes, as he always did, the fantasy always ending the same way: with him standing before the goliath gates of Hope’s Peak.

From there, he couldn’t imagine what the inside would look like.

Photographs of inside the campus were few and far between, and nothing Hinata could picture looked right. Usually those gaps would be filled in with hallways and the walls from his actual school, which only served to slam him down to reality all the more harshly.

Hinata blinked a few times, and bitterly thought to himself that this was actually worse than his predicament before.

Before, he had absolutely no chance of ever entering into HPA, and he knew that.

But now he had a chance—the slightest glimmer of hope—should his essay wow whatever judge was presiding over the contest, on the off chance of maybe one in a million.

Maybe even two million!

The unfathomable amount of entries that would be mailed in made this an effort already wasted.

_ There's no way I can actually win...why am I even trying? _

He had no answer for himself.

Hinata was never particularly lucky, and with so many entries it would take at least a touch of luck for anyone to even read his essay!

There would be so much mail that the staff would probably have to lug it into the school via a wheelbarrow.

Not to mention, HPA staff had to live busy lives outside of their regular duties since they had to be talented people, too. No way would they have time to actually go through every single entry.

He’d followed this trail of thought too many times already since deciding to enter into this contest and he was starting to get sick of it. Sick of himself and his doubts and his lack of talent to begin with.

Glancing at his trash basket and how it was almost overflowing with crumpled papers, he decided that he wanted to go ahead and get this over with.

Write his essay, submit it, and feel disappointed all over again when he didn’t win.

_ It doesn’t matter, anyway. _

Hinata sat straight up and put pen to paper, determined to just  _ finish it. _

_ They won’t read it. I might as well be honest. _

____________________________

 

Another two weeks passed, and Hinata had simmered down.

As much as he could, anyway.

At the very least, he’d mailed in his entry and he wouldn’t be saddled with the risk of regretting not even trying.

He’d already dashed his own hopes, so there wasn’t any room for disappointment, and he could maybe continue to cope with his own dull existence. It wasn’t as if he had any choice but to move forward.

Hinata had debated with himself that maybe visiting the Hope’s Peak website or the message boards wasn’t such a good idea. His obsession was making him depressed, and he knew it.

But he also knew that it only depressed him because it reminded him of the truth: that he was nothing special and never would be.

So it wasn’t the fault of his habits, it was the fault of his existence, and so Hinata unavoidably found himself wandering back to the forums after an entire day of dwelling on it.

He didn’t feel like doing his homework, the house was clean (and empty, with both of his parents absent as usual), and he definitely didn’t want to look at the stack of high school applications on the living room table considering that he didn’t actually want to attend any of them.

He sat on his bed and opened up his laptop, wasting no time opening up the message boards.

There was a thread stickied to the top page announcing: HOPE’S PEAK HAS ANNOUNCED THAT THEY’VE SELECTED A WINNER FOR THE CONTEST.

Against his will, Hinata’s heart raced and his fingers were moving on their own, selecting a new tab in his browser and typing in the url to the HPA homepage.

His stomach churned watching the loading icon.

_ I know there’s no way that I won and yet… _

A splash banner announcing that a winner had been selected appeared as the newest announcement for the school. No name or any clue as to their identity.

_ Why am I still disappointed? _

He shut his laptop, laid on his bed and sandwiched his head between two pillows.

Hinata didn't want to think about it anymore, and didn't want to acknowledge that a part of him felt that he really should've won. That he wanted it more than anyone else.

That he  _ deserved _ it.

Even though, deep down, he knew that he didn't and this only confirmed to himself that he was nothing special. The conflicting feelings were too much to pick apart now.

_ Well, there it went. My last and only shot. _

____________________________

 

The next day progressed at the pace of a snail, and Hinata was planning to skip school until it occurred to him that, if he did, he'd just think about his loss at home all day.

At least going to school, he had the chance to be distracted.

But instead, his thoughts were constantly circling back to Hope's Peak and he found himself wishing that he'd just stayed home.

He didn't feel like making small talk with the people sitting next to him, and he only half paid attention to anything the teachers said.

He thought about how there was a scarcely noticeable chip in the paint on the wall directly next to his desk, and that any high school that would accept someone as mediocre as him would likely be in worse shape.

Hinata couldn't bring himself to eat, and so during lunch he went to the nurse's office and claimed he wasn't feeling well.

It was probably all over his face that, while he wasn't running a fever, he was sick, and he needed to lay down.

The nurse was nice enough to close the curtains around his bed and open the window for him to let some fresh air in, so there was least some privacy and the passing scenery of the clouds.

The hours ticked by.

Hinata stayed there until the end of the school day, when he insisted that his illness had subsided just enough for him to make it home.

He didn't want anyone walking him home, because they'd try to talk him, and right now, Hinata just wanted to be alone to process everything—the contest, that he never should've longed for Hope's Peak the way he did, that he should've already filled out those applications to other high schools so that maybe he'd have a fighting chance at getting in somewhere halfway decent...

Thankfully, the nurse was busy applying ointment to a track member that had skinned their knee and didn't protest to him going home on his own, and his home room had already been cleared out so he could get his bag.

_ All I want to do is go home and lay down. _

____________________________

 

Normally, his parents wouldn't be home by the time Hinata arrived. They both worked later into the evening, so he had a few hours to himself, but today his mom was waiting for him on the living room couch with a cup of tea despite the aroma of coffee brewing from the kitchen, which likely meant that his dad was home too.

She looked indifferent, eyes glued to the news on TV.

“O-Oh, hey, Mom...” Hinata said awkwardly, clearing his throat as he took his shoes off by the door.

“The school called about you.” She took a drink, reach for the remote, and turned down the television, which signified that they were about to have a conversation that Hinata wanted nothing more than to put off.

“O-Oh, well...I wasn't feeling good today. I just laid down for a bit. I'm feeling better now.” He had one foot on the bottom stair. “I do need to study to make up for missing class today, so--”

She shook her head. “No, not your school--”

“You must be Hinata Hajime!” Before she could finish, a stranger emerged from the kitchen holding a mug of steaming black coffee and a too friendly smile. He approached Hinata and held out his hand for a shake. “It's nice to finally get to meet you! I understand that there was some appointment difficulties getting to meet with you and your parents at the same time, but I'm glad we finally arranged it!”

Hinata shook his hand as confidently as he could with sweaty palms and nodded.

“That's me, yes. It's nice to meet you, too. I'm sorry, I didn't get your name?”

“Of course, how rude of me! I'm Kirigiri Jin, the headmaster of Hope's Peak Academy, and I'm here to personally inform you that you've won our essay contest.”

  
  



End file.
